


Contact Stupiditis

by ohnice1



Category: Happiest Season (2020)
Genre: Comedy, F/F, No cheating, Not Canon Compliant, POV Third Person, Riley POV, Romance, Romantic Comedy, Yearning, diverges from the film at the Oxwood
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-07
Updated: 2021-01-07
Packaged: 2021-03-18 06:16:03
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,095
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28613448
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ohnice1/pseuds/ohnice1
Summary: Riley wouldn’t say that she’s surprised Abby is actually cool and funny. Still, she’s undoubtedly surprised that Abby, the current girlfriend of her ex who has probably painted a very unfavorable picture of her, is cool and funny and wants to hang out with her.What if Abby never left Riley at the drag bar to go to Fratty's? Find out from Riley's point of view.
Relationships: Abby Holland/Riley Johnson
Comments: 48
Kudos: 256





	Contact Stupiditis

**Author's Note:**

> Me: I need a break from multi-chapter fics  
> Also me: Writes a one-shot long enough to be 4 chapters less than a week later
> 
> I planned to post this yesterday, but, well, there was sort of a coup...anyway, as a result of the insane news cycle, this fic (which I wrote on Tuesday to cope with the election...I'm from Georgia, so it's been a wild two days, y'all) is unbeta'd, so if it sucks, you can blame the coup but also my beta a little. ;)
> 
> Based on two prompts from sophiagb that I'll put in the end notes.

Riley wouldn’t say that she’s _surprised_ Abby is actually cool and funny. Still, she’s undoubtedly surprised that Abby, the current girlfriend of her ex who has probably painted a very unfavorable picture of her, is cool and funny and wants to hang out with her.

Sitting in a gay bar with said ex-girlfriend’s girlfriend? Well, that wasn’t in her plans. She certainly didn’t expect to run into Abby on the street and get a proposal to go for drinks, which Riley would absolutely _never_ decline.

So there they are, huddled in a booth discussing Abby’s run-in with the law at the mall that day, music and chatter filling the space around them. She wishes she could say it’s another surprise to hear that Harper left Abby to fend for herself that night, but, well. No.

“And I still don’t have a White Elephant gift, on top of it all.”

Now _that’s_ surprising. And a little horrifying for Abby, honestly; hey, the experience of watching Harper’s cousins fight to the death over a quesadilla maker was scarring. “You’ve gotta get one,” she tries to say with urgency but also _without_ making Abby think she’s some sort of Christmas gift game aficionado, which would be weird. 

Abby reacts coolly. “I’m trying.”

“I will help you with this. I know a lot of places that aren’t...malls.” She takes a sip from her beer to avoid bursting into laughter at Abby’s expense.

Where the conversation goes next - with Abby asking Riley what she meant with her comment, then raising the topic of her past with Harper in what can only be described as way too friendly and relaxed for someone currently being put through the wringer by the same person - is something Riley figured was a definite possibility when she agreed to accompany Abby on her quest for alcohol. That doesn’t make it any easier to answer.

If she’s brutally honest, she risks coming across as a vindictive ex scorching the earth; if she hedges, she risks putting Abby into a situation that gets her hurt even more than she already has if Harper hasn’t changed. And so, she hems and haws, sputtering out a few “yeah”s and “I mean”s to fill the time. Finally, she settles on telling the story with a bird’s eye view, hitting on just the “highlights,” as it were.

Abby’s reaction is genuine and earnest, and Riley is relieved with the approach she wound up taking. It only takes a moment, though, before the winds shift and Abby looks crestfallen, the realization that Harper’s current behavior may actually be a pattern appearing to settle over her. 

“But that was a long time ago!” Riley tries to say optimistically. Thinking too much about what Abby likely thinks and feels right now makes her squirm.

The timing of “Must Be Santa” couldn’t be better, and it’s a welcome distraction from the serious turn of their conversation that brings a smile back to Abby’s face for what Riley assumes is the first time all day. When they’ve paid their dues and sung their verses, Riley moves to the other side of the booth to sit next to Abby. If asked at gunpoint, she’d probably blurt something out about wanting a better angle to see the rest of the performance or even trying to sit closer to Abby to hear her over the noise in the bar. The way Riley’s stomach ties itself in a knot when she sees Abby’s phone light up with a text from Harper ( _I’m at Fratty’s. Come meet me!_ ) only contradicts that idea _a little_.

“Um, I should...I should close out. It’s...Harper texted me,” Abby fumbles, showing Riley the text as if she feels the need to prove herself.

“Oh,” Riley says simply, sliding out of the booth to let Abby by.

Abby types something on her phone as she walks into the bar and narrowly avoids walking into two other people, then turns around before reaching the bar. “Do you maybe wanna...I dunno, do you wanna come with me?”

Riley’s eyebrows shoot up. “To Fratty’s? With Harper?”

“Well, it’s not just Harper. I just asked her, and she’s there with, like, ah, Connor and whoever…” she trails off, waving the phone around like she’s trying to express nervous energy.

“That’s probably not the _best_ id-”

“Actually, you know what?” Abby interrupts, turning to the bar and holding up two fingers before turning back around. “Forget it. I told Harper I wanted to spend time with her, not all her high school friends and boyfriend. You have time to stay here a while?”

“Choosing to hang out with your girlfriend’s ex-girlfriend instead of her ex-boyfriend, nice. Fuck the patriarchy, right?”

Abby laughs. “You sound like my friend John.”

“I hope that’s a good thing.”

“It’s a great thing.” She turns to the bar and grabs the two beers, thanking the bartender. Abby gestures at the booth with the glasses, and they sit back in their original seats across from each other. “So. Where were we?”

Riley grabs the glass Abby’s just slid across the table. “Well, assuming you _didn’t_ want to continue karaoke…”

*****

Riley has a headache.

It wasn’t that late of a night - she got home sometime after midnight - but the intensity of the last years of her residency have meant that she rarely drinks and that being tired is basically a permanent state of being. Staying up late _and_ drinking more than she has in, probably, three years? Headache.

She fumbles through the morning, drinking enough coffee that her mom complains that she has to make another pot and pestering her dad about how he only has pain pills that are well beyond their expiration date.

By lunchtime, she feels like a new person. When she gets a call from an unknown number and the caller announces themselves as Abby, well, that also helps. She’s glad her beaming face can’t be seen when Abby proposes they explore the places that are “not malls.”

She picks Abby up about half an hour later, and they make their way into town to ensure Abby lives to tell the tale of the infamous White Elephant party. Riley thinks of the notorious quesadilla maker for a second time and shares the story. They carry on down the street, chatting away until a voice behind them calls _Hey!_ Followed soon after by _Hey, Abby!_

Abby stops in her tracks and spins on her heel. “Harper! Hey!” she greets her enthusiastically.

Riley turns around more slowly, not eager for the impending exchange. Harper breezes down the sidewalk, Jane lagging behind her with a bulky box from the wine shop in her arms. “What are you doing?” 

Abby, unlike Harper, looks totally relaxed. “Shopping. For a...White Elephant gift.”

“With _Riley_?”

“Hi to you, too, Harper,” Riley can’t resist muttering under her breath. Harper shoots her a look.

“Are you serious right now?” Harper asks accusingly.

Abby looks mystified, and Riley knows this all too well: Harper - perfect, poised, and collected Harper - was about to burst. Abby looks around before pointing at her chest. “Me?”

Jane arrives and sets the box on the ground with a grunt.

“Yes, you. You’re really spending the day with Riley? My-” she stops, seeming to suddenly become aware of Jane’s presence. 

“Well, considering I was _arrested_ yesterday, maybe you remember that, and I didn’t even see you this morning, I was kind of at a loss for how the hell else I was supposed to get this stupid gift you could have told me about days ago.”

Riley takes a step back, attempting to physically extract herself from the situation as much as possible. 

Harper rolls her eyes. “I’m sorry, okay! I already said I was sorry for all of this!!”

“Okay,” Abby says calmly, shooting a look between Jane and Harper a few times as if to remind Harper that her sister is standing right there. 

Riley touches Abby’s arm to get her attention. “Should I go? I can go,” she offers.

“No, stay,” Harper says venomously. “Seems like Abby really enjoys spending time with you now.”

“Harper-” Abby tries again, voice still calm and warm.

Riley thinks she would have just walked off by now if it were her. Maybe Abby should be nominated for sainthood.

“But honestly,” Harper interrupts, “Am I wrong? You wanted to see Riley so badly that you just took the first opportunity that you had as soon as I left the house?”

That seems to cause the water to boil over for Abby. “Are you fucking kidding me right now? You’ve left me alone this entire trip, including after you just let your parents believe I’m some kind of serial shoplifter!”

“Oh, that’s rich,” Harper scoffs. “You know I told them that you-”

Abby’s growing increasingly agitated as well and interrupts Harper. “Yeah, and then you told me to spend the night by myself-”

“Because that’s how it has to be!” Harper shouts. “What was I supposed to do? And you didn’t even show up when I invited you to Fratty’s because I was with ‘those people!’”

Abby crosses her arms. “What were you supposed to do? Gee, I dunno, maybe-”

“Guys!” Jane breaks in suddenly. “You’re making a scene.” They all follow her gaze to an intrigued-looking Harry Levin standing next to her car parked on the street.

“Whatever,” Harper says quietly with a resigned shake of her head. “Let’s go, Jane. We still have to pick up three more things, and Mom is already starting to text me asking where we are with the wine that has to be chilled.” 

Harper turns around and walks the other direction without another word, not sparing a single glance back. Jane follows her after sharing an apologetic look with both Riley and Abby.

Abby walks the short distance into a small alley between shops. There, she sobs once and shouts “FUCK!” at the top of her lungs.

Riley puts a hand on Abby’s shoulder. “Feel better?”

“What’s the opposite of better?” Abby asks with a twisted laugh.

“Although I know you know this, I’m gonna humor you and say the opposite of better is worse.”

“God, I wish we could just skip this stupid party. I’ve never dreaded free booze so much in my life.”

“As much as I love playing spectator to a good Harper meltdown, I’m gonna go out on a limb based on this experience and guess I’d enjoy it less if it came at your expense again if you decided not to go.”

“I’ve never seen her act like this. Like...I don’t even know who this Harper is,” Abby sniffles.

Riley smiles sadly, knowing the feeling all too well. “Give her a chance. Maybe she’ll show you this is just some tiny part of her that stays dormant because you make her happy, unlike this shithole.”

“Yeah, well, you seem to be the best thing about this shithole, and look what she did to you.”

If Abby says anything else, Riley can’t hear it over the chorus of swear words in her own mind warning her that she absolutely has to stop thinking about how charming Abby is.

*****

The party is precisely the uptight shitshow it always is.

Networking, old friends catching up, fake friends posturing; _god,_ it’s boring. After pretending to mingle for a while after arriving with her parents, Riley finds Abby exactly where she expected her to be: at the bar.

“What are you drinking?” Riley asks instead of a greeting.

“Oh,” Abby says, seeming to have no idea what it actually is as she peers into the glass. “It’s a spiced...alcohol.” Abby already starts to hand the drink over, a somewhat disgusted look on her face.

“Gross. Can I have some?” 

It’s not long before they’ve secured Riley her own drink and a refill for Abby, and the two move to perch on some chairs on the perimeter of the living room.

Abby is beyond miserable, and, honestly, it’s hard to watch. She’s slumped over in her chair, and her shirt, although Riley _appreciates_ the style (a thought she pushes down as soon as it creeps up), is hanging almost entirely open at this point. She idly wonders if Abby’s actively trying to look like a raging lesbian to serve up a proverbial middle finger.

On top of that, Abby and Harper keep alternating shooting daggers and pained looks at one another. Riley looks back and forth between them again, then settles her gaze on Abby’s solemn form. “I’m gonna go out on a limb and guess that you two didn’t have a come-to-Jesus talk and work everything out before the party.”

“You’d guess right. She just made one comment like, ‘how was the rest of your afternoon with Riley?’ and then her mom showed up and dragged her off to do...whatever. I feel sorta bad because she doesn’t even know I was out with you last night. I wanted to tell her this morning, but then she disappeared.”

Riley gulps. She reluctantly decides it may be best to remove herself from the constellation, knowing the result will be her sitting around by herself praying for theatrics like every other year, For Abby’s sake. “Do you want me to go? I really don’t wanna make things worse for you. I think you’ve suffered enough. I can go cling to my mom’s leg like when I was six or scope out the optimal viewing position for the White-”

“No,” Abby interjects firmly. “Of course not. We’re not doing anything wrong, and the fact that this whole situation has turned into me being jealous of Connor and Harper being jealous of you is just...ridiculous. Neither one of us should have to sit around this stupid place alone just because some people have communication problems. And the fact that Harper doesn’t even like men, but she’s acting like this just makes me...nauseous, on top of everything else.”

Riley relaxes slightly. “You sure? Because I can-”

“I’m sure,” Abby interrupts again. “Thank you, really. But you’ve basically kept me sane for the last twenty-four hours, and that’s more valuable than any of...whatever those gifts under the tree are gonna be.”

She sounds firm in her words, and Riley believes her, but she feels a pang of sadness for Abby when her gaze lands on Harper again the moment she stops speaking. Harper, who’s now quite literally giggling at Connor and touching his arm. Riley wants to gag. “I’m gonna get you a real drink.” 

Abby looks back at her as she gets up to go back to the bar. “Thanks.”

Riley shoots her a thumbs up that she regrets only a moderate amount when the embarrassing image replays in her mind. She spends her time at the bar pushing back the feeling of resentment bubbling up in her throat. It’s been years since she thought about Harper in more than a passing way and even longer since she wasted any negative energy on her. Now, though, seeing how little she’s changed and how much she’s hurting the woman who, Riley thinks, others would kill to call theirs, it rises to the surface of her consciousness with fury.

 _All_ of those thoughts need to get put away in tiny little boxes. Immediately. The whole thing is just relatable, is all.

She almost believes it.

When she returns a little while later, things haven’t changed much: Harper’s still chatting away with Connor, and Abby is still slumped in her chair (which, from a different angle, looks incredibly uncomfortable and not very ergonomically friendly). Abby pockets her phone, which she’d just been typing away on, when Riley returns.

Riley hands Abby the new drink. “Here you go. Whiskey sour.”

“Oh, fuck yes,” Abby practically purrs. “One of my favorites.”

Riley grins. “Mine too. Now, please tell me you weren’t texting Harper from across the room?”

“Oh, god, no. My friend John. He took over my pet sitting for the weekend, so I had to make sure there haven’t been any casualties yet.”

“And?”

“All the animals are allegedly alive and well, but I’ve got my doubts about the fish.”

Riley snorts. “I’d just like to clarify because you said yesterday that I sounded like John, that I am perfectly capable of keeping a fish alive for a long weekend.”

Abby lets out a single laugh and _almost_ smiles. 

What Riley would give to see that smile.

“Good to know. Oh, and why would I be texting Harper from across the room?”

“Beeeecause you were staring at her the entire time I was gone, and you don’t seem to have mastered telepathy yet? Unless you’re just holding back on me,” Riley jokes. Then, more seriously, she says, “Maybe you should just go talk to her. You’ve got a long night ahead of you. At least you know she won’t make a scene here.”

Abby seems to mull it over, rubbing her hand through her hair a few times as her knee bounces up and down rapidly. “Yeah, okay. Good idea.”

“Go get ‘er,” Riley says in a way that she hopes is optimistic and encouraging.

When Harper’s giggling at Connor seems to escalate just as Abby gets close, Riley is almost sure this talk will not end well. She can’t hear what Abby says, but she watches her storm off immediately after saying it while a devastated-looking Harper watches her walk away before shooting an embarrassed glance at her friends and following.

They’re gone long enough that Tipper starts making the rounds to kick off White Elephant. At the back of her mind, Riley feels a little worried about the wrath Harper is surely going to incur for being MIA for this “momentous” occasion, but then she remembers that she literally doesn’t give a shit. Plus, Sloane, her husband, and their crotch goblins are missing, too.

Harry Levin is opening a giant gift when reality completely blows all of Riley’s expectations out of the water: Harper and Sloane appear, finally, but they’re practically at each other’s throats and screaming bloody murder.

“What is going _on_ here?” Tipper shrieks, standing bolt upright from the couch. “Girls, calm down. This is absolutely ridiculous.”

“Listen to your mother,” Ted roars. “You are grown women, and this is unacceptable!” he hisses in a way that sounds like he thinks no one else will hear it (literally everyone hears it).

“Oh, you wanna talk about unacceptable?” Sloane sneers. “How about what precious Harper here has been up to?”

Yup, Harper just threw a Poinsettia at Sloane’s face, which is incredibly entertaining until Sloane powers through the clumps of soil falling off her face and keeps talking. “Your poster child for perfection is a _lesbian,_ and she’s doing it right under your noses! Abby is her girlfriend!”

“Sloane!” Jane cries out, finally jumping out of her own seat and getting in Sloane’s face. “What are you doing? Harper is your sister.”

Harper doesn’t really seem to notice Jane’s presence and keeps her furious stare fixed on Sloane. “She’s lying!” she finally cries out, looking around the room to make sure everyone hears her. “I’m not a lesbian!” 

Riley gives up on the Caldwell sister drama and redirects her attention to Abby, who lingers next to Eric near the front door. Eric has the decency to cast Abby a pitiful look, but the rest of the room seems to be enthralled with Harper and Sloane’s screaming match. 

Abby slips out the front door, and Riley chances a look at her parents; they’re totally fixated on Harper, too (she’s not sure how she’d explain all of this to them or if she even wants to), so she sneaks out through the kitchen and jogs to catch Abby in the front yard. “Abby!” she calls out, catching only a faint sight of the other woman power walking down the driveway between a sea of cars.

Abby slows, turning around and walking backward. “Riley?”

Riley continues her jog and catches up to Abby. “My gut instinct is to ask if you’re okay, but I’m not an idiot, and I know the answer. So instead, I’m just gonna say...hey. It’s fucking cold. Do you wanna sit in my car?”

As if on cue, Abby shivers. “Stellar idea,” she replies through chattering teeth.

They walk to Riley’s car in silence, Riley hooking her arm in with Abby’s in an attempt to both comfort her and warm them up. 

“It heats up pretty fast,” Riley assures her once they’re inside. “Sorry I didn’t, like, I dunno, grab a jacket or something. I left through the kitchen because the circus was blocking the front door.”

“Circus?”

Riley laughs ruefully. “I’m pretty sure Harper and Sloane were in the middle of the Caldwell equivalent of a fistfight.”

Abby scoffs. “Well, I guess you can’t say Harper didn’t commit to the bit. Right to the bitter end.” 

The car is already significantly warmer, and Abby’s teeth stop chattering. Now having the mental resources to focus on things other than being cold, Riley notices Abby’s tears. She leans over Abby to grab a tissue from the glovebox. “Here. There’s more in there if you need them.”

“Thanks.” Abby wipes at her eyes and nose for a moment, then pushes the tissue into her pocket. “What a mess.”

“I’m so sorry,” is all Riley can come up with. 

“Yeah, me too. A few days ago, I would have thought I’d be nervous about proposing in, like, twelve hours. Instead, I’m sitting in my girlfriend’s ex-girlfriend’s car, thinking about whether I should _break up_ with her now or in twelve hours. What a fucking ride.”

Riley chokes back the surprise she feels clouding her entire head. “Proposing, huh?”

“Crazy, right?” Abby says bitterly. 

“Mhmm,” Riley acknowledges quietly. That was certainly...something.

“It’s just...there’s just so much _lying_ here. All of them! They all lie to each other about everything all the time. I see where she gets it from, but like...damn. I’m supposed to be her partner. How could she do that to me?”

“Abby,” Riley begins gently. “Please know that I’m saying what I’m about to say because I think you deserve to hear it and not because I think you’re wrong. What you have to understand…” Riley sighs, pinching the bridge of her nose between her fingers. “Let me back up. The story I told you about Harper and me...I made it out, and I’m fine. It took a fuckton of therapy, but I came out on the other end. But...I only got that privilege because I had parents who were _just_ understanding and _just_ open enough to have an initial reaction that came from a place of love. 

“Harper’s family is like most families that run in upper-class political spheres...appearances first, success second, love and all the other stuff way lower on the list. Harper’s never seen or known anything else. She’s terrified and desperate to hold on to priority number one at all costs. Again, I’m not saying it’s right. It’s completely fucked up and shitty, and she should have had this revelation in high school. But...it has absolutely nothing to do with you.”

Abby doesn’t say anything, seemingly processing what Riley’s just said. She fishes the tissue out of her pocket and dries her eyes again. “I don’t think I can be with someone who doesn’t make me as important as I make them. I don’t think it’s asking for too much to just be treated like a good _friend_ for a few days.”

Riley offers her a sad smile. “You are one hundred percent entitled to that.”

Abby doesn’t even get a chance to react this time as guests begin to file out of the house and to their cars. “That doesn’t seem promising,” Riley points out.

“No...definitely not. Fuck,” Abby hisses. “What should I do? Do I go back there?”

“Well, definitely not now, maybe wait another two or three minutes. But if you want to...sure. If you don’t want to, I’ll drive you wherever you wanna go.”

“Okay. Would you...would you wait? If I went inside? I think maybe I just wanna...get my things. And go.”

“Of course.”

People file out for another minute or two, and they sit quietly, Abby taking another tissue from the glovebox to dry her face as she tries to use the remaining time to get composed. 

Just when the house’s front door closes, and it seems like it’s time for Abby to go inside, they’re startled by a knock on the driver’s side window. “Riley?”

“Mom!” Riley shrieks, rolling down the window. “You scared the crap out of me.”

“Sorry,” she says sheepishly. “I just wanted to check on you girls. I saw you run off out the kitchen door after this one here took her leave from the Caldwell shitshow. You okay, honey?” she says to Abby.

Riley digs her nails into the steering wheel. Of _course_ her mother saw them. She can’t wait to explain this entire scenario to her incredibly detail-oriented mother later.

Abby takes a deep breath. “Not really,” she says with a rueful laugh. “But I’ll be fine. At least I don’t live here. Thank you for asking.”

“Sure,” she says kindly. She looks at Riley. “See you at home?”

“Yeah. I’m just gonna hang around here for a bit while Abby gets her stuff, but I’ll see you later.”

Riley’s mom waves a little and scurries off to her own car, where Riley’s dad is already warming the engine. “Well, she’s the polar opposite of Tipper Caldwell if I ever saw one,” Abby comments.

“Yeah,” Riley admits with a laugh. “She has her moments, but she’s pretty great.”

Abby inhales deeply and closes her eyes. “Guess I better…” she doesn’t finish her sentence and points at the house.

“Good luck.”

*****

It’s less than ten minutes before Abby comes back, bag strewn over her shoulder. She dumps it in the trunk. “Thanks for waiting,” she says stoically as she drops into the seat. “I brought your jacket.”

Riley had forgotten all about that. “Oh. Thanks.”

Harper’s voice bellows from the front door and through the closed doors and windows of the car. “Abby, wait!”

Riley cringes. “If you want me to drive like you just robbed a bank, just say the word.”

Abby laughs. “Just give me a sec.” She gets out of the car and comes face to face with a desperate Harper a few yards away.

Riley can’t make out a word they’re saying, and she laments the fact that it would be way too obvious if she were to crack a window and eavesdrop. She settles for watching them while pretending to look at her phone.

It’s decidedly not great when Harper seems to be gesturing at the car and/or Riley, and Abby responds by also gesturing at the car and/or Riley as she shouts back.

They were, obviously, not yelling about the car.

After another minute or so, Abby’s shoulders finally sag, and Harper looks equally defeated; Abby’s right hand is practically living in her hair now, tracing a familiar path over and over. Finally, Abby holds up both hands in what looks like a surrender gesture. She says a few words and walks back to the car without another glance.

“Let’s go,” Abby says shakily.

Wordlessly, Riley drives away from the Caldwell house towards her parents’.

*****

Later that night, sitting on the bed in one of Riley’s parents’ guest bedrooms, Abby details what happened in as much detail as she can manage without getting choked up.

The epic brawl between Sloane and Harper had, apparently, been instigated by Sloane catching them in a close embrace, followed by Harper seeing Eric with their dad’s political advisor in the “robot jail” (whatever that was - Riley doesn’t ask).

Fast forward to Abby going back inside to get her things, and Harper apparently turned on a dime, deciding she was suddenly ready to come out to her parents. She made a big speech about hiding and hurting the person she loved for the sake of appearances, but Abby says it made her feel nothing but resigned and angry. Harper didn’t even follow her to the basement, where she hastily tossed all her things in a bag and came back outside.

“Yeah. So that basically brings me to Harper rushing outside and begging me to just be with her and give her a chance to show me that it will be different.”

“And what did you say?” 

“That it was too late,” Abby says with a sniffle. “And it is. I’m just totally done. I can’t be with someone who treats people that way. What’s that quote? Something like, ‘When someone shows you who they are, believe them the first time.’ Like, if she were gonna change, she could have done it already, you know? She’s basically had her whole adult life to realize what she did to _you_ was really fucking shitty.”

Riley’s eyes bulge. “Did you say that?”

“Oh, god no,” Abby clarifies hastily. “She already had multiple ragers where she said that I was just pulling away from her because of you or saying that this was somehow your fault.”

Riley’s stomach twists uncomfortably. “Oh.”

“It obviously isn’t,” Abby says. “I can’t say that you telling me what happened in high school didn’t have an impact, because of course, it did. But it’s not like you manipulated me into running away or something. If anything, you tried to show me why she was acting that way and even to give her time or a chance.”

Riley sighs a little, deflating her shoulders into a sag. “I don’t know you that well, but I just want you to be happy. Whether that happiness comes from Harper or not...I just want that for you. I don’t have a horse in this race.” At least, not one she’s willing to bet on.

“I know.”

“And,” Riley continues, “I seriously debated how much detail I should share about the high school stuff before I started talking. I really didn’t wanna influence you in any way. I hope you know that.”

Abby looks down at her hands, which are twisting the tissue into a long roll. “Is it weird if I say I feel like I know you would never do that? It’s so weird, right? I just met you two days ago, but it’s like I’ve known you for years. I dunno. Like we just get each other or we were meant to meet or something if you believe in all that.”

“I do,” Riley admits. “And it’s not weird. I agree, actually. I mean, it’s the same. For me.”

“Thank god,” Abby sighs in relief. “I don’t think I could process you thinking I’m delusional in addition to everything else that happened today.”

Riley feels suddenly overwhelmed with fondness. “Don’t worry. After seeing all the shit you’ve dealt with in the past few days, the only thing I think you are is incredibly badass.”

Abby flops back against the pillow and covers her face with her hands. “I don’t feel like a badass.”

Riley laughs. “Then I guess you’ll just have to trust me.”

“I’ll try.”

“Do.” Riley reaches over to pat Abby’s thigh. “You’ll feel way more badass after you get some sleep. If you need anything, my room’s the one across the hall. Towels and stuff for the shower are all in the bathroom. Get some rest, okay?”

Abby sits up, wiping off her face. “I’ll try. Thank you, Riley. Seriously. For everything. I’m...pretty sure I wouldn’t have survived the last two days without you.”

“You would have,” Riley says with certainty. “You just might have had some way more awkward sleeping conditions tonight,” she jokes.

Abby laughs a little. “I hope you’re a hugger because I’m gonna hug you now.”

Riley opens her arms. “Hug away.”

Abby leans across the bed and practically falls into Riley’s arms. She won’t allow herself to think about how well Abby just _fits_ there.

At least not today.

*****

John arrives early the next afternoon to drive Abby back to Pittsburgh, and he joins Riley and Abby inside for a cup of coffee before they head out.

As they chat, Riley realizes she’s absolutely nothing like John, but she nonetheless holds Abby’s compliment from the bar the other night close to her heart when she sees how fond they are of one another. Driving hours on Christmas Day to pick someone up? John was a good friend.

The conversation winds down and John checks the time on his phone. “You ready?” he asks Abby.

“Yep. I’ll just go grab my stuff. Riley, could you come with me real quick?”

“Sure,” Riley agrees, confused. Surely Abby wasn’t that disoriented about where the bedroom was?

“Sorry,” Abby says sheepishly as they enter the room. “I just wanted to say goodbye here. I have some stuff to say, and John’s kinda nosy,” she admits with a laugh. “I’ll tell him everything anyway, but it’s better that he hears it all in order. Otherwise, he gets all frantic and starts pressing for details without context. It’s pretty annoying.”

“That’s fair,” Riley agrees, endeared by Abby’s rambling.

“Anyway,” Abby breathes out. “I can’t thank you enough for everything you did for me. The drinks, the shopping, the getaway car, letting me crash here...you were seriously my hero through all this shit.”

Riley has that hot feeling in her cheeks that usually means she’s blushing. She tries to ignore it. “It was my pleasure.”

“I have no idea why you did all that for me, by the way.”

“The Christmas spirit?” Riley jokes, trying to buy some time. She gnaws at her lip, having a similar internal debate to the one she had when Abby asked about Harper in high school. How much would be too much? “Maybe it was just the same for me. Like when I met you, I just had a...feeling that we were supposed to meet and you were someone I was meant to get to know. Kinda need you alive and well for that.”

Abby grins. “At least we’re both crazy if that’s a crazy idea.”

Riley holds out a fist for a fist bump. “United in our crazy ideas.”

Abby bumps her own fist against Riley’s. “Absolutely.”

“So,” Riley begins.

“So,” Abby picks up. “I don’t think I have any other creative ways to thank you. But I wanted to say one thing...because I totally believe what I said. I think we met for a reason, and I don’t think that reason was just so you could chauffeur me around this shithole.”

“I’m going to rename this town ‘Shithole,’” Riley jokes, trying to diffuse the tension she feels. Whether that tension is in the room or just inside her, she’s not sure.

“I’ll second the motion,” Abby jokes back. “Anyway...I would really like to keep talking to you. I mean, when I’m back in Pittsburgh, and you’re in Baltimore saving lives and shit.”

“I would like that too.”

“Cool,” Abby says, pleased. “But there’s one thing. I’m the kind of person…” she trails off like she doesn’t want to say what’s coming next, the idea of which is supported by her hand flying into her hair to fluff it nervously. “I’m the kind of person who works through really serious shit alone. So it could be that you don’t hear from me for a while. Like, at all. But it’s just...well. You know it already. I went from wanting to propose to breaking up. Harper and I said we’d talk one more time once we’re both back, and I gotta work through all that. It’s really important to me that I always make huge decisions independently so that there’s no way I ever resent myself or anyone else for influencing that, you know?”

“Sure.”

“And I...puh. You know what, I don’t even wanna open this can of worms right now, but meeting you made me realize a lot of shit, and I just need to process all that. I dunno how long it will take, but I just wanted to tell you so that you don’t think I was just using you this whole time and then threw up the deuces when I left, never to be heard from again.”

“I’m pretty sure that’s the last thing I would ever assume from you of all people,” Riley points out. “So, if I’m getting this right...you take some space, work through things with Harper and whatever else. And you’ll text me or call me or show up in Baltimore, but preferably not in the hospital with Contact Stupiditis, or whatever when you’re ready. Right?”

“Right. And I can promise no Contact Stupiditis.”

“I’m gonna hold you to that, Abby Holland. I’ll be watching for a chart with your name on it.”

“Pinky promise,” Abby offers, holding up a pinky. 

Riley takes it in her own pinky. “Alright. You guys drive safe. Take care of yourself, Abby.”

“I will,” Abby says, pulling Riley into a hug. “You too,” she says into Riley’s hair.

The hug goes on way longer than Riley would have expected, and she realizes it’s full of a lot of things they haven’t actually put words to. Friendship. Shared trauma. And, at least for Riley, something else she feels guilty putting words to.

Abby steps back and grabs her bag, slinging it over her shoulder. “See you around.”

“Looking forward to it.”

*****

The new year rolls in, and Riley settles back into her hellacious routine back in Baltimore: long days followed by short nights of too little sleep and almost zero time or energy for things like hobbies or socializing.

When February creeps up, Riley still hasn’t heard from Abby. At first, she didn’t overthink it; sure, it wasn’t ideal, but Abby had warned her, after all. A few weeks turned into a month and then six weeks, and Riley sort of resigns herself to the fact that Abby and Harper probably got back together and mutually decided it was for the best to remove her as a point of contention from their lives.

She begins to think that she’s simply continued her streak of meeting what feels like the right person at the very wrong time.

It changes on February 24th when Abby finally texts her. All it says is, _hey._ Riley replies with exactly the same one-word answer as she rushes from the cafeteria to the locker room between patient consults.

Abby’s next message is lengthier.

 **Abby:** Are you working today? Or, if you are, when do you get off? Can I call you later?

Riley replies that she’s working until six, so she’d probably be free after around seven, then asks if Abby’s okay. Going from no communication to _Can I call you?_ has Riley feeling concerned.

 **Abby:** Sorry, I just realized how that probably sounded. Totally okay. Just wanted to talk to you. I’ll be home all night, just call me when you’re home and you have time. :)

Riley has to force herself not to call at exactly seven.

“Hey!” Abby says brightly when she picks up. “I’m so glad you called.”

“I’m...glad you wrote.”

Abby sighs into the phone. “Yeah, it’s been a while. I’m really sorry.”

“Well, you did warn me,” Riley says. “But yeah, I was starting to think you’d fallen off the face of the Earth. Or that maybe you were relying on carrier pigeons. How are you?”

“Nah, I’m more into owls, but I can assure you that no owls were harmed in the process of my...whatever you wanna call it. And I’m...really good. I, ah...man, a lot’s happened,” Abby seems to realize with a laugh. “I don’t know where to start.”

“Just start with the important part. Are you okay? Happy?”

“Happy might be a stretch. But I...I’m doing well. Things are good.”

“And did you...I mean, did you work things out with Harper?”

“What? No!” Abby sounds shocked. “I mean, we talked when she got back, but that was...I dunno. It felt more like a debrief. No, that’s definitely over. I crashed with John for a while and moved a few weeks ago.”

“Oh. I thought that was maybe why you-”

“Disappeared for so long? No. Like I said...I just had to work some stuff out. Make sure I ended things with Harper for the right reasons and just for myself, figure out what I’m doing and all that. Don’t wanna be feeling like a plastic bag, drifting through the wind, wanting to start again, you know?”

“Thanks, Katy. That was really profound,” Riley deadpans.

“But seriously,” Abby redirects, “I’m sorry it took so long. Honestly, I thought about texting you...pretty much every day.”

Riley pulls the phone away from her mouth and takes a deep breath. “Me too, actually. What stopped you?”

“Wanting to be sure that I was thinking the right crazy thoughts. What stopped you?”

“Something like that. And...you told me what you needed. Why wouldn’t I respect that? I could tell it was really important to you.”

“You’re so good,” Abby says, sounding awestruck. “Can you miss someone you only saw for like three days?”

“Survey says...yes,” Riley confirms.

“Good.”

“Good,” Riley echoes.

“So...what now?”

“Honestly,” Riley says, sounding slightly defeated, “I’m pretty much the worst person to stay in touch with. I work ridiculous hours and sleep worse ones. But...I’m sure I can pencil you in.”

“I’m honored. Now would it be weird if I said that while I have you on the phone, I really just want you to talk about yourself until you don’t feel like it anymore?”

Riley laughs. “What? Why?”

“Because the last time we saw each other, it was all about me. Now we haven’t talked in two months, and I wanna know what’s going on with you before we waste any more time talking about me.”

Riley isn’t quite sure how to just launch into a monologue about her life, especially considering the only people she ever talks on the phone with are her parents. Nonetheless, she manages, telling Abby about how the rest of Christmas was before she had to drive back to Baltimore that night and how things have been with work in the meantime. Abby breaks in at all the right moments, making comments, and asking questions to understand the background or more detail.

“And that’s pretty much it. I have the most boring life of anyone I know, including the other residents,” she finishes.

“Please,” Abby scoffs. “You might be the least boring person I’ve ever met.”

They talk until Riley can’t fight off sleep any longer and hang up the phone around nine. The conversation ends sort of awkwardly, like neither of them is quite sure where things stand now.

Riley brushes her teeth and falls into bed, deciding to text Abby one last apology (in addition to the ten during the phone call). She realizes it’s weird that it’s the first time she’s ever texted someone she feels has taken over a lot of her mental real estate. _Sorry I’m such a grandma and sleep at nine. Night,_ she sends.

 **Abby:** I’ve always had a thing for older women. Night.

Riley thinks about the logistics of performing CPR on herself as she falls asleep, heart thundering.

****

After that night, it’s like they start talking and never stop. They text each other constantly, and the conversation never really ends; there are no goodbyes, just breaks while one or both of them works or sleeps - which are pretty much the only things that stop them from talking. It carries on that way for more than a month until one Saturday that they are both, quite miraculously, off work and free. So, when Abby doesn’t reply for two hours, Riley starts to get seriously concerned.

The knot in her stomach grows and grows until her doorbell knocks her out of her anxiety spiral. She buzzes the person in, not bothering to go on the intercom when she assumes it’s a package delivery for one of her neighbors. She opens her door following a soft knock - very uncharacteristic for a delivery driver - a moment later.

She starts thinking about CPR again, something she does a lot lately, when she sees Abby standing there, her hair a little shorter and eyes a lot brighter than the last time they saw each other in person.

Abby is clearly trying to look serious, but her eyes are filled with mirth. “Doctor, I’m so glad you’re here. I have this thing where if I don’t talk to you for too long, my mind just starts going wild, and I have to _think_ about you constantly to pass the time. It’s been about two hours now, and I think I might burst now that I finally see you. I feel it right here,” she says with her hand on her chest. “It’s like heart palpitations.”

Riley’s breath catches. “Oh, yeah, that’s...sounds like a classic case of, ah…” she trails off, uncertain of how bold she feels like she can be. Ultimately, she throws caution to the wind when she consciously realizes the fact that Abby clearly just boarded a plane to be able to show up here. “Well, I’m currently suffering from that affliction myself. It’s severe. Too many physical and emotional side effects to list, really.”

Abby grins. “Is that so? And what might this affliction be called?”

“Oh, you know, it’s one we usually abbreviate: Lots of Violent Emotions. But we usually just call it, ah,” she gulps. “Love.”

Abby noticeably suppresses a grin. “That sounds right. What’s the treatment for this affliction?”

“Well...I think you’ll need to step inside, Ms. Holland. Doctor-patient confidentiality and all.”

“Right, of course.” Abby steps inside, closing the door behind her. 

“That’s better. So, let me get a good look,” Riley says, willing every ounce of control in her body to stop her hand from shaking as she reaches up to touch Abby’s cheek. “How long has this been going on?”

Abby feigns thoughtfulness, and it’s a valiant effort. “Hard to say. It was kind of like a dull ache that I thought I was maybe imagining for a while, back in the winter, and then it was like...it came on all at once, and it was everywhere. I guess that was in March.”

“Yep, it’s as I suspected.”

“Oh, really? What is it?”

“I’m afraid the only thing you can do is live with it. Your symptoms, though...the, ah, yearning heart palpitations and all that? Luckily there’s one thing I know of that can...ease those symptoms.” Riley steps closer, placing her other hand on Abby’s waist.

“I’ll try anything.”

Riley thinks she can feel her pulse all over her body, and she loses the ability to come up with another witty response. “This should help,” she says simply, leaning forward to kiss Abby.

Abby’s arms wrap around Riley immediately, and they stumble a bit, Abby’s back hitting the door. They stay there, wrapped in an embrace and kissing for what feels like an eternity. “You were right. This definitely helps,” Abby says between kisses.

“I’m glad to hear that,” Riley says with a smile. Abby accidentally kisses her teeth, and they both laugh.

Abby leans back. “Do you maybe have something a little...stronger? It’s just that...now I have some other symptoms, and I think they’re being exacerbated by this current treatment.”

Riley grins. She grabs Abby by the hand. “Step into my office, Ms. Holland. I’m sure we can find the right treatment that will give both of us some...relief. But there is one thing I have to tell you before we get started.”

“Me too, actually. Just so you can really make a proper diagnosis.”

“I’m all ears.”

“I love you. I love you, and I knew it was going to happen before it even started.”

Riley’s stomach does a backflip. “I’m gonna drop the doctor stuff now. I love you. I fell in love with the idea of you after Christmas, and then the real you that I’ve gotten to know since then was...impossibly better. And I have _lots_ of questions about you being here, but right now, I’d just really like to go back to kissing you.”

“Works for me.”

**Author's Note:**

> The prompt: "OOOOOOOO PLEASE DO ONE WHERE THEY DONT LEAVE EACH OTHER ON THE DRAG BAR DAY, OR WHEN ABBY SAYS ‘IM DONE’ SHE DOESNT GO BACK TO HARPS?"
> 
> If you have any prompts, feel free to drop them in the comments or send them to me on Twitter (@ohniceshark) or Tumblr (ohnice1).
> 
> Stay safe ❤️


End file.
